It’s a decent question. It’s also one I don’t want to answer.
“Been spending a lot of time around horses,” I kick back.
“Deflection at its best. I’ll drink to that.” He lifts his beer. “But I’d rather hear the truth.”
My lips curl in pure condescendence. “I couldn’t care less about what you want.”
Interest sparks in his muddy eyes. They’re the wrong shade of brown. “You’ll say otherwise after I turn that frown upside down.”
Nausea flips my stomach, churning faster when he grins at me with yellowed teeth. I want to cringe, but scoff at myself instead. When did I become so particular? He seems like a decent enough guy. We could probably exchange a few orgasms. But there’s absolutely zero heat flowing to the basement region.
I allow my sights to wander again, as if I’ll find anything more appealing between the ruined pool tables and broken jukebox. A hollow ache pierces my chest. I hate to admit it, but I’m disappointed Byron didn’t find me.
That’s when the front door bangs open. The entire bar falls silent as if the cops or a rival gang just strode in. But it’s worse. Very much so. I whip around to get a better view, not believing my eyes.
Clogging the entrance like a character from a Wild West film is none other than Byron Benson. Everyone is dressed in leather and a criminal record while he wears his Stetson with pride. His shadowed stare searches the crowd, just waiting for someone to challenge him to a duel. The famous whistled tune fromThe Good, the Bad and the Uglyplays in my head.
Rather than a theme song, the hush around me turns into aggressive murmurs. This is biker territory and Byron just crossed a line. I consider running, but this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since I stepped foot in this dive.
My boots stay glued to the sticky floor. It’s not my responsibility to teach him the rules. If he’s old enough to have gray in his beard, he should be wise enough to know better.
When his haze meets mine, an electric charge surges between us. I swallow a gasp as his glare melts into a smolder. There’s a glint of humor buried in there. The expression ignites my veins and I’m engulfed in his blatant desire. Fuck, I should’ve ditched this shit hole when I had the chance.
The angry mob parts, allowing him to walk the plank toward me. I keep my chin held high as many turn the scope of their fury. It appears we’ll go down together for his mistake.
My jaw is clenched and about to snap in half when he reaches me. “Do you have a death wish?” I hiss.
Byron has the audacity to smirk. “I’ve got you to protect me, little menace. You don’t look all that homicidal this evening, though. What’s with the rhinestones?”
After a scathing roll of my eyes, I grasp his arm and drag him to the nearest corner for some semblance of privacy. I whirl on him and stab a finger into his chest. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing here?”
“Finding you. That’s the point of the game, right?”
My belly doesn’t swoop. Definitely not. “Ronnie told you?”
“Of course,” he grunts. “She was thrilled at the illusion of you being trapped in a tower and I arrive just in time to rescue you. It’s ‘romantical’. Her words, not mine.”
I quirk a brow. “And what’s all this nonsense about you taking me out on a date?”
The lighting in here is piss poor, but I swear he blushes. “Dennis and Ronnie were behind that. I just went along with it to get them off my back.”
“We’re not going on a date.”
He lifts his hands. “Fine by me.”
I huff at his easy surrender. “How did you know where I was?”
“Your phone’s location is shared with mine,” he states casually.
Meanwhile, it feels like I’m imploding. My muscles vibrate, coiling tight in preparation to launch an attack. “That’s a massive invasion of my privacy! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His eyes widen as if I’m overreacting. “It’s a precaution for Ronnie. I need to be able to track you when you’re not at the house.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that?”
“My fault. I was under the assumption you’d blow it out of proportion. I can see now that it would’ve been a rational conversation.” The sarcasm dripping from his voice isn’t appreciated.
“You’re diabolical. I haven’t taken Ronnie anywhere by myself yet. Someone is still chaperoning as if I’m capable of hurting her.” The thought alone makes me sick.